Solatium
by Parfait Est Profundis
Summary: Set in Half Blood Prince. Following their unfortunate brawl in 6th year, Harry begins to doubt his actions. His guilt leads him to visit Malfoy in the hospital wing every night. He discovers a side of him he didn't think existed. Can they finally make amends and begin anew? Or will they revert to old habits? In progress. First time poster! All rights belong to JK.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1 **

Harry awoke with a start.

Memories rippling through him like curses. Blood stained was the lavatory floor, and all he heard was Myrtle screaming. Then the gurgled sound of Malfoy choking on his own blood. He hadn't known what the curse would do. How could he be blamed? Ron had assured him. Hermione being the ever so rational one had chastised him.

_You should make sure he is all right._

_Hermione, he cast an unforgivable_, Ron snorted.

_So? The ends don't justify the means; look what you did to him! _She continued but her gaze went soft.

_He's a git_, Ron said to no one in particular, gaining a reproaching look from Hermione.

_Even so, she insisted, no one deserves that. You saw him, the least you can do is make sure he isn't permanently injured. _

Sighing he relented. The dissonance weighedhard at his chest. He _had_ been meaning to cast an unforgivable. But it's not like it would have stopped him from casting his own curse anyhow. He panicked and the words resonated in his mind. _For enemies_. He hadn't in all his idiocy considered that it might be a dark spell or one aimed at mutilating people. To be frank, Harry had not taken the time to properly consider what it might have done. All he knew now was that he had cursed someone half to death. And it felt bad.

* * *

Tossing in his bed he gave up on getting any sleep that night. Rising he rubbed his tired eyes. Drawing the Marauders map out of his bedside drawing, he cast a lumos and scanned it for any signs of the blonde. Hospital wing, he thought. And sure enough it seemed the blonde would be spending another night there. Alone, he thought, as he felt a pang of guilt coursing through him. Mulling it over in his head for a few minutes his conscience finally got the better of him. Slipping the invisibility cloak over himself he steeled out of the dorm, into the corridor into the halls of Hogwarts. The fat lady's snores resonated through the hall. He knew no one would notice. It was the middle of the night and anyone sensible was deep in sleep. As he manoeuvred the hall his mind wandered back to the events naught two nights ago.

He had been obsessed. He knew Malfoy was up to something. And it was Harry's duty to find out just what that was. But something had struck him when he caught him in the bathroom. His face red and anxious, tears steeling down his cheeks. He looked more like a frightened boy than a dangerous death eater. Then as eyes meet, panic ensued and curses flew.

In hindsight he couldn't help feeling bad for Malfoy.

Seeing him all vulnerable, when previously all he had ever seen of him were smirks and cowardly displays.

Turning a corner he saw to his dismay the familiar paws of Filche's cat. It hissed at him and he stumbled backwards onto an armoured display. Wincing as he stubbed his heel on a kink he cursed and scrambled to right himself.

_What is it my love?_ He heard Filch screeching across the hall.

Over his shoulder he spelled the suit to do the cha cha as he took off down the hall.

Commotion ensued and echoed down the hall.

To bad he couldn't enjoy it, he thought with a slight snicker.

Reaching the hospital ward, quite out of breath, all thoughts of filch doing a two step number with an enchanted suit of armour left his mind. Instead he felt the same heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Guilt, shame, even trepidation.

Making sure he was covered fully by his cloak, he pushed the door open ever so slightly. Warm candlelight lit the room. He paused but there was no sound. Tiptoeing into the room he saw all but one bed was empty. The rise and fall of the inhabitants chest signalling he was in deep sleep. An empty canister of dreamless sleep potion sat on the bedside table. Approaching the bed he felt the lump rise to his throat making his very skin crawl. The torn bloodied clothes he had been wearing lay on display next to his sleeping form. A faint red mark was just visible below his collar. _Fuck_. Guilt coursed through him like was paler than usual he noted, a feat he thought impossible. Dark rings tugged at his lower lids, betraying countless nights spent as he had; tossing and turning, awaiting the inevitable sunrise. He spent some time at his bedside. Just watching. Watching as his chest rose and fell, as the minutes past and he could at least be certain of one thing. He was alive.

Finally as the sky began showing whispers of light streak the horizon he rubbed his tired face. Making his way back to dormitory like a zombie, he trod the steps one at a time. As he collapsed into his bed, the light now dancing on his eyelids in merry contempt, he recalled the panicky face of his foe. Wondering absently as he delved into sleep, when he had himself become the maker of such petrified expressions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

The Great hall was bussing.

Over the sound of clinking cutlery and creaking chairs, one could hear the incessant whispers retailing the events of a few days past.

Harry fidgeted in his chair. An arm linked through his. Turning he saw Ginny smiling at him for reassurance. Smiling back with some effort he returned to the bland bowl of porridge in front of him. Her arm remained.

_What is their problem_? She snorted at his side.

Following her eyes he saw the murderous glare of Parkinson and Nott across the room. The entire Slytherin house looked uneasy. Half angry and half afraid of him.

_They ought to be happy, Harry did em a favour_, said Seamus.

The sentiment made Harry cringe. Next to him Ron nodded approvingly, gaining a smack to the shoulder from Hermione.

_I don't think they see it that way, _she replied sufficiently wiping the smirk off of his face.

_I think everyone at this table does._ Seamus continued, motioning one custard covered finger to indicate the table. There were some nods, but most were preoccupied with eating.

_Harry doesn't_, said Hermione.

Crossing her arms defiantly, they stared at each other, both awaiting his affirmation and support.

_Doesn't he? _Seamus asked.

Seamus and Hermione continued glaring at one another, as Harry was silent.

Well? They asked almost simultaneously.

Harry was uneasy with the amount of attention he had now been given.

Eh…

_Are you with us or the Ferret? _asked Dean.

_I_.. he said as they waited expectedly.

.._need the loo_. Leaving them dumbfounded he exited the hall with as much graze as a wounded hippo.

Diving into a hidden alcove he paused and heard the tell tale pitter-patter of first years. Many students had taken to Potter watching, either for their own private elucidations or as a means of making a few galleons off of another daily prophet story. Making certain the hallway was empty he hurried up the stairs.

Having secured detention every weekend from now into oblivion was painful to even consider. But he couldn't help but feel anyone else would have gotten themselves expelled. While he loathed Malfoy he couldn't understand their reasoning for condoning what he had done. Even if the bloke was a massive git.

His disobeying feet lead him to the hospital wing again. Nearing the door quietly, he heard muffled voices within. Having left the cloak upstairs he didn't enter for fear of confrontation. Placing his ear to the door, he heard the familiar rumble of Dumbledore's voice. Then came shouting, a familiar angry voice that commanded fear followed by a softer feminine voice retorting something calmly. Something akin to a threat sounded and their conversation seized.

Footsteps sounded louder and louder, and Harry had just enough time to step away from the door when it was swung open. Out came Lucius and Naricssa Malfoy. A sneer was prominent on his features, wild angry eyes betraying just a hint of distress. It looked for a moment as if he was going to say something, with his hand firmly gripping his wand, but a porcelain-white hand on his shoulder stilled him. _Potter_, he sneered and pushed past him. The bump took all the air out of him and he winced at his shoulder. _I guess I deserved that._

Narcissa paused for a moment, the familiar icy stair he saw in her son, proud and not a little sombre.

_You must excuse my husband. He is not one for pleasantries. _

Not knowing how to respond he just nodded. Her voice was commanding and her gaze penetrating. While her face was a paragon of placidity, Harry thought he saw tears in her eyes.

_I hope you settle things with my son, Mr Potter. You might find he is very unlike his father and a good person to align oneself with. _

As she exited the hallway her robes billowed in a way Snape could never contend with. Her words puzzled him. Malfoy always acted like his father. For all intents and purposes it looked as though he was next in line for the dark mark. He wondered whether taking the advice of a possible death eater was such a good idea.

His thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore exiting the ward.

_Harry, my boy_, he sighed happily. The glint still present in his eyes but he wore the expression of exhaustion.

_Professor, _he began but his words failed him.

_He's resting, but I think you can go inside. _said Dumbledore as though reading his mind.

_I..._ he started but Dumbledore just nodded and took his leave. His hand hidden in his robes. Harry was suddenly annoyed at his inability to produce a coherent sentence. Pushing past the doors, he held his breath and entered. Pretending to look around, he walked in the direction of the only bed he knew was occupied.

Malfoy lay on his side, looking away from the door, he couldn't tell if he was awake or not but found out as he approached the bed.

_Bugger off old man, _the blond snapped.

_Malfoy_.

He turned his head at the sound of his voice. Eyeing Harry warily, he made to sit up.

_Come to finish me off_? His voice laced with bitter resentment.

He bit back an insult at the sight of him wincing. He was still pale but his eyes ferocious. They had an almost admirable fire.

_I came to… talk_, he put simply.

Laughter rang through the ward as Malfoy tipped his head back. It sounded solemn and not at all joyful. The act itself seemed to pain him and he held a hand instinctively to his abdomen. Laying flat, grey eyes directed at the ceiling he spoke.

_Say what you must Potter; I have no interest in spending the remainder of my recovery with you gaping at me._ He was the epitome of nonchalance.

Looking around him he saw no sign of his wand and decided it was safe to be near the blond.

_How are you? I mean considering. _He motioned to the hand that had come to rest on his stomach. Malfoy snatched it away and fingered the hem of the blanket instead.

_Never better Potter_ _is there an actual point to this mindless exchange or do you intend to just bore me to death?_ He spoke eloquently moving to grab a cup off the bed stand. Harry stilled him by handing it to him. Grey eyes met his with caution but accepted. Moving his wand towards the cup he saw Malfoy flinch.

_Warming spell_, he murmured and cast it silently. Malfoy looked away and sipped his tea silently.

Swallowing his pride he repeated the words he had intended to utter in his mind. _I came to apologize_. _I'm sorry._ _You're a git, and so am I. We cool? _He mulled them over in his mind and but they wouldn't come.

_I saw your parents, _he finally said as the awkward silence began to thicken.

Malfoy adopted the expression of disbelief and slight annoyance. Then continued to pretend Harry didn't exist.

_I don't think they were too happy to see me,_ he continued. If Malfoy wouldn't talk to him, he would just have to talk at him.

_Your Father nearly knocked me over,_ he said rubbing his shoulder.

_But I guess I had that coming_. Malfoy snickered.

Sighing he planted himself in the seat next to the hospital bed.

Reconciling was going to be more difficult than he had anticipated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 **

Harry considered how much had changed. Deep in sleep, Malfoy looked serene, something he had never envisioned of his nemesis.

Seated at his side, Harry had droned on about the Quidditch cup finals. At some point, Malfoy had fallen asleep. Light snores emitting from his still form. Peering over him, he saw Malfoy's wand at the side of his bed. Leaning over him he placed it on top of the table next to him. _It must have taken a great deal of exhaustion for him to fall asleep with me in the room_. _Or some degree of trust, _he recalled Malfoy's words before he had gone silent but the continuous rise and fall of his chest confirmed that Harry had **not** in fact bored him to death. Just sleep.

Harry had left the ward wordlessly, intending to read up on their latest potions assignment. It struck him that while he may have been granted amnesty for their bathroom brawl, the teachers might reconsider it if he were to fail. And Merlin knows there is nothing that would delight Snape more than Harry failing.

He met up with Hermione and Ron and they spent a good few hours in the library. Thankfully they spared him the interrogation. Before nightfall he and Ron played a game of chess, and Harry lost miserable. Still it felt great to be around friends.

As he trod up the stairs to the dormitory he recalled faintly that Malfoy had smelt of elderberries. He decided he quite liked it.

He fell asleep almost before his head made contact with his pillow.

His dreams invaded by a familiar set of brilliant grey blue eyes, staring at him with what could only be described as adoration.

* * *

The next day he woke up with a feeling of need.

He didn't know what that need was, or how to make it stop.

It festered at the pit of his stomach like a swig of fire whiskey.

Licking his dry lips he tried to shake of the feeling and went to take a lengthy shower. It was still very early; smiling to himself he saw Ron was half in bed and half sprawled on the floor. Knowing Ron would curse him if woken, he dressed, packed his assignments and cloak before leaving quietly.

Reaching the hospital wing, he pushed past the doors and walked over to the hospital bed. Malfoy was so unlike Ron, he thought. Lying on his side in Harry's direction wisps of blond hair sprawled on his forehead in a perfectly tussled way. One arm tucked under the pillow and another curled around the fabric of the linen. Lips parted only slightly, breathing lightly under a veil of sunlight.

All the white made him look like some sort of fallen angel. _What_? He asked of himself, but chalked it up to a momentary guilt infused madness.

As he took a seat, the creaking sounded loudly in the bare ward. The figure stirred, and grey eyes cracked open momentarily before widening in horror.

_Potter_? He asked.

_Malfoy_. Harry nodded back.

_Were you watching me sleep_, asked Malfoy incredulously, voice raspy from sleeping.

Harry flushed, and stammered to reply. _No, I was just... I just got here_.

_Careful Potter, people might talk_. He said with a mischievous glint.

Malfoy turned and stretched languidly like a cat. Pausing only to shove a pillow into his lap. He looked momentarily distressed but Harry was non the wiser.

Furrowing his brow in confusion. _What do you mean?_ He felt heat creeping up his spine, and the same niggling feeling as before tugging at his gut.

_I mean, people might think we are being civil to one another. We can't have that, now can we?_ He stated and Harry thought he saw the hint of a blush on Malfoy's lovely cheekbones.

Searching for some courage he pondered the reason he was here.

_Just say you're sorry. And then he will too, and all this awkward fake matiness can stop and we can go back to silently hating each other. _

_I got you something, _Harry said. Clearing his throat, he rummaged his bag until he found the scroll. Handing it over, he waited expectedly as Malfoy unfurled it.

_What is this_? Malfoy asked with scorn. The parchment was covered in Potter's barely legible chicken scratchings.

_I figured since you… well since I put you here_, he said sheepishly, _you didn't have time to finish the potions assignment. _

Malfoy's watchful gaze morphed into disbelief and amusement.

_You did my homework?_, he asked to which Harry nodded.

_Tsk, Potter. Watching me sleep, bringing me gifts. _He was definitely enjoying himself now. He bit his bottom lip and looked at Harry through thick eyelashes.

Harry's chest began to burn. _Was it always this hot in the hospital wing?_ He wondered as his collar began to feel a bit too tight.

_They will say we're in love._ He said dramatically. Harry flushed, annoyed at Malfoy's antics. _Just say thank you, you git, _he bit.

Malfoy chuckled beautifully. It made Harry feel all sorts of weird.

He wasn't going to let himself be embarrassed, he reasoned and made to leave.

_Sit. Down. Potter._ Said Malfoy with the same proud authoritative voice as Narcissa had.

Refusing to allow Malfoy to bark orders at him, he turned and neared the bed but did not sit. This put them only a foot or so apart. Harry saw flickers of blue in his grey eyes. They glared intently at each other and for a moment he wondered what someone walking in might make of them.

_I accept,_ breathed Malfoy rolling up the scroll.

_You're a wanker_; Harry heard his own strained voice reply.

To his surprise this only seemed to amuse the blonde.

_I know. _

His lips were curved slightly, and his cheeks pink, framed slightly by ruffled blond locks of hair. This is what he looks like in bed, he thought, and the warm sensation travelled south. He swallowed audibly.

_You're insufferable_, he continued and for an unknown reason he itched closer. The warmth in his belly compelling him to go nearer.

_I know_, Malfoy reiterated, eyes glossing over just enough to make him look tipsy. He saw Malfoy's pink tongue dart out to lick his lips and his eyes followed hypnotised.

_You're_… He felt a twinge in his groin and the need grew tenfold. Malfoy leaned forward, staring at Harry's own lips. _Need. Want._ His brain registered Malfoy's intent but his need was numbing all rational thought.

They were just inches apart now. He felt Malfoy's breath in his face, the sweet scent of elderberries muddling his brain. He closed his eyes, when suddenly the doors were kicked open.

_Draco, darling!_ Shrilled Pansy in delight.

Harry jerked away and stumbling over the chair he landed on his bum painfully.

Malfoy groaned in annoyance.

_What_? He snapped.

Grabbing his bag Harry scurried past her, as she glared daggers at him.

_What was he doing here?_ He heard her angrily as he ran out the door.

Quickening his pace, his breathing refused to return to normal. Lifting one trembling hand to his face he sighed in disbelief. He could have sworn he had felt Malfoy's lips brush against his own.

* * *

Draco managed to sedate Pansy by assuring her Potter had not come to kill him. He suffered the next half-hour listening to her rant about shoes and futons or some rubbish like that.

The pillow was enough to hide his erection. But now he wondered if that had really been necessary. Grinning to himself, he remembered Potter's breath ghosting over his face. He had known for some time that he wanted to shag Potter, but he was pleasantly surprised to find the attraction might be reciprocated. Tying Potter's scroll with a ribbon, it struck him he found the sentiment… cute.

Merlin, the bastard was adorable.

Opening his drawer, he placed the scroll next to his own neatly written one.

* * *

Reviews are like chocolate kisses! x


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 **

Harry did not return to the hospital wing.

Instead he sat alone in his bed staring intently at his potions textbook, but everything about it seemed to only serve as a reminder of a certain fair-haired wanker.

Groaning he lay back on his bed.

Had Malfoy been meaning to kiss him? He wondered.

And if so, did he actually want him to?

He had very nearly let him.

Ron entered and collapsed on his bed.

_You all right mate_? He asked Harry who just nodded in return.

_Hermione is all kinds of crazy, you know that? Three hours she had me working on that bloody essay, and then she says it isn't good enough! _

Harry laughed. Knowing Ron, that was probably the longest he had every worked on a single assignment.

_Women_, Ron sighed. _Speaking of, how's it going with you and Ginny? _Ron asked, giving him a knowing look.

Harry looked uncertain. They didn't exactly have an established relationship. And he knew how protective Ron could get. Sure they had shared a few longing looks and kisses, but how was he to know whether it would lead anywhere?

_I'm all for it, you should know. She's crushed on you since even before you two met. _

Ron probably intended it to sound supportive, but it only served to magnify his confusion. How was he supposed to figure out what he wanted with people around him thinking they already knew?

_Thanks_, he said with a modicum of uncertainty. He smiled weakly._ I'll keep that in mind_.

Deciding to clear his mind, he took to strolling the grounds before supper.

The weather had turned sour, so he was confident he would be undisturbed.

With the wind biting his cheeks and the rain blurring his spectacles, he wandered aimlessly. Reaching Hagrid's cottage, he peered through the window but saw to his dismay that the lights were off. As he made his way back to the castle, the weather took a turn for the worse. The rain was coming down hard, dousing his cloak entirely. Reaching the grand oak doors, he entered and breathed with relief as the warmth enveloped him. Still soaked, he left a messy trail of rainwater and mud after himself.

* * *

Draco was frustrated.

He had finally been released from the hospital wing, after a particularly heated debate with Pomfrey.

She had dealt him a number of vials to take at different intervals for the next couple of days. _It will probably scar_, she said matter of factly.

Draco snorted, thinking she could learn a thing or two about proper bedside manner.

Pansy had brought him a change of clothes, no doubt hoping he would let her stay, as he got dressed_. Not bloody likely_, he thought and asked her in his sweetest tone to please go fetch him a mug of tea. Without pause she grinned and went to do his bidding. _Too easy,_ he thought, rolling his eyes as he dressed in private and walked out.

He bit his lip at the memory of Potter.

He couldn't help himself; he flushed like a damned schoolgirl at the thought of him.

_Funny how mingled, hate and lust is_, he thought. He couldn't decide whether to kill him or snog him silly.

Turning a corner he was met with a pair of wide green eyes.

Potter was drenched top to bottom, carrying his robes under his arm, revealing his see through white shirt, clinging to his chest.

_If only I had waited around the corner, I would have felt him flush against me. _Potter had taken off his glasses revealing his radiant emerald eyes.

_I'll snog him, then I'll kill him_, he thought merrily.

_Malfoy_, Potter said in surprise, _you're out then?_

Master at stating the bloody obvious he thought, but refrained from saying anything of the sorts. Catch more bees with honey, yes?

_They couldn't keep me in there forever_, he replied donning a charming smile he knew made witches and wizards go weak at the knees. He noted with satisfaction that Potter's cheeks visibly reddened.

He couldn't rush this. If he wanted Potter, he would have to work slowly, seducing him into submission. The only way to get what he wanted was to make Potter think he was making his own decisions. He wasn't a Slytherin for nothing.

_How's your bum? _He continued.

Potter stared in disbelief. _Excuse me?_

He enjoyed watching Potter squirm. _You took a rather nasty tumble, no? _

_Oh…_

He almost saw the cogs fall into place in Potter's head.

_Yeah I'm fine. _

_Can I kiss it better, _he imagined himself saying. The thought of Potter spluttering was almost too good. The prospect of Potter giving into him however was even better.

_So… what were you doing in the bathroom, anyway? _Potter asked with some hesitance.

Draco cringed at the memory. Remembering his mission, his father's angry determination, and his mother's passivity. The mere idea of Potter being witness to his moment of weakness made him feel ill.

Before he could reply, Potter spoke again.

_You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. _

Draco stared in disbelief.

He must have emitted some horrid wounded dear expression for Potter to react like that. Adopting his signature smirk, he did his best to change the subject.

_Did you take a dip in the lake? _He asked confidently, giving Potter a once over._ I would strongly advice to getting undressed prior to submerging yourself. _

_You would like that wouldn't you, he told himself, Potter all wet and glistening… _

Potter smiled. _Just decided to take a walk outside, not my brightest moment, I admit. _

Draco suppressed the urge to snort. Speeding things up, he neared the drenched man.

_You've got_… Draco began and raised a hand towards Potter's wild mane.

He looked uneasy but allowed the proximity.

_A leaf_, he said triumphantly, drawing it out of his hair and presenting it to him.

Potter raised his hand and grasped it, their fingers brushing against one another. A ripple of warmth spread through him at their contact. He had never met anyone who affected him like this. It was sublime.

Instead of drawing his hand back, Potter kept it there, staring curiously at their hands. Like he was solving a puzzle.

Draco upped the game by stepping just a few inches closer. Potter didn't seem to mind. Instead he linked their fingers together. He wondered briefly if his fingers were directly linked to his cock, which twitched appreciatively at Potter's ministrations.

Their attraction was volatile, and completely indisputable.

_What are you thinking_, Draco asked as softly as he could muster.

Green eyes met his. And he burned.

_I'm confused_, he whispered.

_About?_ He asked, feigning ignorance. He bit his bottom lip to look as innocent as possible. Potter gaze caressed his every movement.

_You_, he said simply.

_Give in, Draco's mind screamed. If Potter could just muster up some of that Gryffindor courage, I could show him the true meaning of pleasure. _

Potter had a scent of summer rain. He wanted to bathe in it.

Before he could have a change of heart Draco raised their joint hands to his mouth. Potter just stared.

Brushing his lips on his knuckles, he noted with joy that Potter struggled to breath properly.

_That's right, Potty_, he thought_; imagine me doing that somewhere else,_ he thought as he planted a kiss on the back of his hand.

Something snapped in Potter and he raised his hand to grasp the back of Draco's head. _That's it_, he thought. _Don't be shy._

Potter's strong hand held him, stroking the hairs at his neck making him sigh in contentment. Tracing the back of his hand with his tongue he heard Potter moan audibly.

_Merlin_, he thought. Wanting nothing more than to hear that lovely sound again.

Potter was so close now. His breathing erratic and mixing with his own, his scent invading his senses.

Until it wasn't. The warmth left his side, his hand snatched from Draco's grasp.

Potter mumbled something and walked off.

He stared in disbelief at the spot in front of him.

A pool of water in lieu of the man he had intended to shag senseless.

He was flushed, hard, and annoyed.

Turning he caught a last glimpse of Potter before he turned a corner.

_You're an Idiot, Potter! _He called out as he disappeared from view.

Glancing down he saw the tent pitched as a result of their proximity.

Potter was like an itch he could not scratch.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to those who read and review. Your kind words mean the world to me and it's such motivation! :)  
Sorry it's so slow, I just love building suspense!

**Chapter 5**

Taking a seat at the table next to Ginny, building up as much bravado as he could muster, he took her hand under the table. She smiled back at him, and as their eyes met he exhaled. Nothing. Not a stir, shiver or even slight rumble came from their touching. Blushing somewhat she resumed her meal, stroking the back of his hand with a soft thumb. The same spot Malfoy's mouth and tongue had traced.

_Malfoy is right, _he mused_. I am an idiot. _

Peering over at the Slytherin table, he swiftly located him seated in between his minions. That head of hair was hard to miss. The mere sight of which made him nervous.

… _don't you think Harry?_ asked Neville interrupting his train of thought.

_Huh_? He asked, and there were some giggles.

_What I miss_, he asked obliviously and downed his pumpkin juice with his free hand. They must've noted the flush that had crept over him.

_Really Harry, what has got you so distracted_? Asked Hermione and he mentally cursed her for it.

Lavender guffawed, pausing her treacle tart assault to speak.

_Isn't it obvious? He's in love!_, she crooned giving the pair of them a knowing look.

All around there were catcalls and jeers. Dean patted his shoulder approvingly.

Next to him Ginny scowled but seemed amused, face flushed with amusement.

Harry was mortified. It didn't help when Ron offered a _'hey, that's my sister'_ starting another ripple of laughter. Hermione gave him a sympathetic smile but it did nothing to lessen his embarrassment.

Looking up, his eyes met unblinking grey ones.

There was no amusement, just pure unadulterated determination.

A slight shiver travelled up his spine, and butterflies danced merrily in his stomach. Malfoy affected him unlike any other. Snatching his hand out of Ginny's grasp, he felt his cheeks flush deeper under the intensity of Malfoy's stare.

_Bugger_.

* * *

Draco stepped out of the great hall.

Part fuming, part aroused. And yet completely and utterly obsessed.

Having seen the red haired Weasel bint all but throw herself at Potter, had stirred his possessive side. He couldn't remember the last time he had wanted something so much. Or the last time he had been denied something, for that matter.

Other than Potter.

On the first day of their first year, he had stumped Draco with a NO.

A long line of no's would follow in conjunction with the raven-haired git.

Each one stinging worse than a slap to the face. Of which he had had many of over the years. Being pawn to the dark lord by no means meant living the good life. Instead one was expected to put ones life down for the aspirations of a raving mad snake-faced wanker. So it was with much trepidation and dread that Draco had met with him privately. He rummaged through Draco's mind, groping at memories uninvited. Whether he was pleased or not with the findings, was anyone's guess.

Now with the mission to murder one of the most prolific wizards that had ever lived, one could say with some certainty, Draco was less than elated.

Fuck elated, he was miserable.

He didn't exactly mind Dumbledore. Mad as the old bugger might be, he had always been kind and inviting. In truth, Hogwarts was somewhat of a home. A haven from the dark and uncertain life he had at home. He wanted Dumbledore dead, as much as he wanted a house elf for minister of magic.

Then there was Potter. Sweet, dumb, gullible Potter.

He had sat at his bedside, given him his bleeding homework.

Held his hand and stared at him with those big green eyes.

Groaning, Draco shook his head.

Not now. Not _him_.

This really was the worst time to become infatuated with someone.

Especially if that someone was the saviour of the bloody wizarding world.

Once in his dormitory, he darted to the loo.

Shedding his clothes he stepped into the shower.

The cold water did not seem to register with his engorged member.

Smiling beside himself, he elevated the temperature.

Thinking of Potter's stupid crooked smile, he tugged.

Leaning his head back, letting the water douse his face and hair, he moaned.

Green eyes, strong arms, that musky scent.

Stroking himself faster, he moaned louder.

Potter's fingers in his hair, his lips moving closer and closer…

That did it.

With a gasp he threw his head back.

Coming for what felt like an eternity. Pleasure rippling through him in waves.

With the image of Potter's stupid beautiful lips on his.


	6. Chapter 6

This will be my final update this week.

I will be in Paris for a few days but I promise to update as soon as I return!

You are all wonderful.

**Chapter 6 **

Draco knew he would eventually show.

Potter had a nasty habit of stalking.

Thankfully this habit seemed to only apply to him.

He stood where he had on that night. Hunched over the mirror, waiting for the door to open. He didn't have to wait long. Soon enough in came the spectacled git himself.

The voice that spoke was so unlike the Potter he thought he knew.

_Malfoy. _

Looking up, he saw green eyes flicker apprehensively under his scrutiny.

_Potter._

Turning he dealt Potter a half-smile. Feigning a somewhat surprised expression he spoke.

_This stalking thing is getting slightly out of hand._

Potter wore a familiar expression. The same self-righteous look every other Gryffindor wore when they thought they were doing the right thing.

Stepping closer to Draco, his eyes darkened.

His fixed stare pinning him to the very ground he stood on.

_That night, you were… crying_. Potter said, more a statement than a question. _Don't deny it. _

Looking away he focused on anything that wasn't Potter.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. But something about Potter made him want to open up. On the floor next to him was the spot. He knew because despite several attempts at scourgifying, the floor was left marred crimson where he had lain.

Potter followed his eyes and looked at it with a sombre expression.

_It's almost funny;_ his own voice reverberated through the deserted bathroom.

_I've been cruciod more times than I can recall. But this was different. Cold. _

_Malfoy_, Potter began, but was ignored.

_It was like an ice pick. Cutting through me. _

He traced the angry red mark just visible below his collarbone.

He felt the memory of the curse hitting him, the cold slashing sensation. The malignant hand of death, tugging him from this life.

* * *

He saw Malfoy reliving his horror.

In Harry's mind he remembered screaming the curse. Then the gulping noises of Malfoy trying to breathe for all the blood. Seeping through his clothes, marring the floor. The look of pure distress on his lacklustre face.

Guilt and horror overwhelmed him.

* * *

_What were you hiding from?_ Potter asked voice laden with concern.

Stepping forward, he spoke earnestly. _You should talk to Dumbledore, he can help_!

Potter with his blasted hero complex.

Didn't he see him for what he was? A lost cause.

An insignificant pawn in the game of chess that was the madness of the dark lord. One way or another, he was going to come out losing.

Or better yet, dead.

_No one can help me_, he said to himself.

Potter crossed the room in only five strides. Grasping him by the shoulders with enough force to bruise him, he spoke.

_I can_. He said, trying and failing to get Draco to meet his gaze. _Is it to do with him? With Volde-_

_Don't Potter_, he bit angrily. Their eyes met and he knew his own were glossy. He hadn't intended to reveal himself. To bare himself like this to Potter. But the bastard was relentless. Brave and blind, like the lot of the Gryffindor's. Intelligence really wasn't a requirement.

_Look Malfoy, I don't trust you. But even I can see whatever it is you're going through, you don't believe in it. You should let me help you. _

Feeling the need to cry and laugh he opted for a shallow chuckle.

_Why do you care? _

_I don't know_, his hands softened their grip.

_I guess… I like you. _Potter said, looking surprised but relieved at his own admission.

_You like me?_, he repeated with a hint of a smile. The mocking tone causing Potter to draw back. Before he could Draco lifted his own hands to grip Potter's arms keeping them there. Relenting his grasp of self-preservation, he replied.

_I like you too_.

Potter searched his eyes, presumably for signs of deception.

The silence was too much for Draco. His patience wore thin. If Potter was going to keep scaring so easily, they were never going to get anywhere. And Draco was burning with need.

He spoke with a calm, steady voice.

_Enough_. Potter looked a bit taken aback.

_No more games. _Pausing for emphasis, he leaned forward a mere inch.

_Show me. _

_What_? Potter asked, hanging on his every word.

_Show me how much you like me. _

There was some internal struggle plaguing Potter.

He could see Potter going from confused to fearful and back to confused again.

Sighing dejectedly, he dropped his arms.

He wondered briefly if he could manage another year, kept at an arm's length from Potter. Neither indulging nor relinquishing his hold on him.

So much for Gryffindor Bravery.

Then sensing his despondency, Potter sneaked on hand up from his shoulder, to his throat. Tracing the skin of his Adams apple for a moment, it bobbed beneath his nimble fingers, as Draco swallowed nervously. His fingers came to trace his chin and cheek, soft and slowly. Draco's pulse quickened and his blood was pumping in every other direction but his brain. His chest tightening to match his pants.

Potter touched him like a blind man, tracing every bit of skin his fingers could reach. The soft skin below his bottom lip, to his left cheekbone up to his blond eyebrow. For a moment, nothing else in the world mattered. Not when Potter was touching him like _that. _

His hand came down to grace his ear and then pausing to dive into his blond hair.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. Indulging in the wonderful feeling of Potter touching him. His hands coming up to rest tentatively on Potter's arms again.

Potter neared him, resting his forehead on his. He engulfed him, the warmth, the touch, and the very scent of Potter, invading his senses. As though made for him solely, to enjoy. Like an éclair.

Fingers came to trace his lips.

Opening his eyes, he saw lidded green eyes betraying the lust reserved for him and him alone. _Yes_, his mind screamed.

_More_.

Their noses brushed as Potter neared him. Their breath mixed again, but this time Draco was determined to be patient. As if sensing his hesitancy, Potter placed two fingers beneath his chin and pushed up towards him.

Leaning forward he captured Draco's lips.

It was all he could do not to come right then and there.

Groaning he responded enthusiastically.

Potter's lips were warm, rough and completely fucking perfect.

He nipped at Draco's bottom lip, soothing it with a flicker of his tongue.

He _loved_ bold Potter.

Sucking at Potter's lip he made a mental note to replay the sounds he made in his mind for eternity. Growling Draco dipped one hand into Potter's wild mane, turning his head sideways to plunge his tongue into his greedy mouth.

Potter moaned appreciatively, kissing him back without abandon.

Their tongues caressing in unison, tasting every inch they could cover.

Potter's other hand came to rest at his back, before pushing him flush against him.

Gripping Draco's hair he turned his head to plunder his mouth at another angle.

Draco groaned in pleasure as he felt a hard length pressed into his.

_Oh Merlin's beard… _

No fantasy had ever come close to this.

Potter was hot and hard against him.

His tongue doing the most wonderful things to Draco's muddled brain.

If he had known kissing him would be this good, he wouldn't have wasted all those years bickering. He would have pushed Potter against a wall and ravished him.

He gasped as he felt Potter's hips jut forward.

Potter's drew back, his eyes wild. His hair even more of a mess if such a thing was possible.

_Are you ok_? He asked, licking his swollen lips.

His concerned eyes scanned Draco. _Did I hurt you_?

_No, but I will hurt you, if you don't keep kissing me,_ he said in a husky voice.

Delighting in the look of pure unapologetic lust on Potter's face.

Leaning in, Potter paused him.

_Wait_.

_What? _he hissed wondering momentarily if you could die from blue balls.

Potter gave him a look of concern that made his insides fall apart like a wet cake.

_Speak to Dumbledore._ It was an ultimatum.

Sighing defeated he held Potter's gaze with the same level of intensity.

_And then can__ we g__et back to the kissing?_

Potter's radiant smile was answer enough.

It also answered the question he had done his best to avoid until now.

He was most definitely infatuated.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The howling wind matched the turmoil that raged in Draco's mind. Pulling his robes tighter around himself did not help, as he shivered for the cold.

His face betrayed no visible emotion. His pristine features would do his father proud. Less so if he knew what was going on inside.

Lucius had been murderous at the hospital wing, threatening to call upon his ministry connections lest something be done about Potter. The only thing that had managed to placate him was his mother. And possibly the prospect of watching Potter die later.

Something about that didn't sit quite right with him. The thought of his eyes never lit again with passion but empty and dead in their sockets. A chill coursed trough him at the mere thought.

Days ago he probably wouldn't have cared.

He chuckled weakly. Was he only kidding himself?

Potter had always been a nuisance, an annoying presence in his life.

But he had always been there. No matter what he did or where he turned: there was Potter. Surrounded by his fan club, smiling his crooked smile or making doe-eyes at the ginger Weaslette.

He was annoyed and secretly intrigued to find Potter watching him intently at the beginning of sixth year. His eyes following his every move in a way he probably thought was unobtrusive. Draco could not help but do the same.

While he was occupied with his inner turmoil it had not escaped him how much Potter had changed. He wore the same ridiculous spectacles, and his hair was still a bird's nest of a mess. But Potter had begun to fill those baggy clothes out nicely; Draco caught himself more than once checking out his arse in his Quidditch gear. Admiring his wind kissed cheeks, rosy as he soared through the sky. And the way he gripped his broom added to his arsenal of wank material.

_Salazar_, he was a sight to behold.

More than anything, the intent glare of his ember eyes was enough to enthral him. Maybe he had always wanted him.

Maybe the constant urge to punch his face had been the equivalent of pulling pigtails, when what he really wanted was to kiss him.

When Potter had finally done so, warmth rippled through him like fiendfyre. A thrill that was akin to flying, as intoxicating as fire whiskey and as exhilarating as magic. He felt warmth rush through him despite the cold.

Was he ready to give that up? When he had only had a taste.

But giving in to Potter would be turning his back on everything he had ever known.

What with the Dark Lord cosied up at the Manor, there was no guaranteeing his parents' safety.

The highland air stung his lungs as he drew breaths. He would catch a cold for sure, he thought as he felt a tickle at the back of his throat. But at least out here he could be alone to think. His thoughts returned to his father's worn and tired face.

His father loved him; of that much he was sure. His unrelenting allegiance to the dark lord however, stood in the way of their salvation. At the onset of Voldemorts rise to infamy it had been a matter of corresponding ideologies. Now it was about survival. Some might think his father a coward, but it took more courage than he himself could muster, to live alongside that monster.

His thoughts went to his mother momentarily, recalling her cool calm expression revealing nothing, were it not for the tear streaks.

Draco's admiration for her knew no bounds. He sometimes wondered how she managed to keep going. She was the pillar that held the Malfoy legacy from crumbling.

He had seen enough horrors to last him a lifetime. He wasn't about to add the death of his parents to that list.

Bracing himself he turned away from the cold.

Walking down a lone hallway he pondered Potters words.

_I can help. _

His chest fluttered.

_I like you. _

Scolding himself mentally, he tried to focus on the matter at hand.

He couldn't allow such trivial things as _feelings _to derail him.

The rumbling beast caged in his breast roared yet, at the thought of him. His unrelenting determination, his brave idiocy. Potter lacked one important characteristic: self-preservation. He was more than happy to throw himself into danger when others were concerned. To think that he would do that for _him, _his supposed enemy was a sobering thought.

He wondered absently what he wouldn't do to keep the-boy-who-lived from kicking it.

_No_, he thought. Potters fascination with him could scarcely be anything more than a phase, a passing fondness that would dissipate when the next exiting preoccupation presented itself.

Walking steadier on, he focused his mind on the only thing he knew for certain.

He had to save his family.

* * *

Standing outside the gargoyle he pondered his hopeless predicament.

Doubt crept over him and he made to leave when the sound of grinding stone echoed.

He started as the gargoyle began to move, swirling to reveal a long winding staircase. Waiting for a beat, he looked around the deserted hallway before tentatively scaling it.

The sweet scent of lemons filled his nostrils. He stepped into the room with his trademark poised demeanour. Looking around he saw no one, just a number of trinkets that sounded, snoring portraits and a phoenix perched on a stance giving him a once over before grooming its wings in blatant disinterest.

A shimmer to his right caught his attention.

Nearing, he saw it was a Pensieve.

_Strange_, he thought. His father would have never left his pensieve in the open. Instead it was locked behind a false wall in his study, bewitched to curse anyone who attempted to enter, half to death and back again.

The swirling liquid whispered to him. The remnants of a memory beckoning him closer. Swallowing hard he looked around and saw no one. His curiosity got the better of him and he leaned forward, sweaty uncertain hands gripping either side of it.

A sharp tug at his navel sent him plummeting down a black void.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note;

Thank you for reading!

I don't quite know how this Beta-reader-thing works but if anyone is interested in helping lil ol me out that would be wonderful.

**Chapter 8 **

Draco's feet connected with marble floor and he struggled to regain his breath.

Voices sounded down the corridor, he recognised it now.

The Manor.

A cold shadow passed through him and he saw the shape walk out from his very being. Long purple robes draped on the floor as the figure walked steadily onwards. Catching himself he steeled after it.

Catching up, he saw with a gasp, Dumbledore.

_Professor_ he said, but he was ignored.

He cursed his idiocy as realization hit. He was in his memory.

Dumbledore walked slowly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

His eyes held a familiar twinkle, a rosy tint clung to his cheeks that he had now lost, Draco realized. His beard was noticeably shorter, he mused but was interrupted as they reached the foyer.

_Albus Dumbledore,_ sighed a voice.

Turning Draco was astonished to find a fresh faced Lucius Malfoy smiling back at him. His platinum hair tied back with a ribbon, he wore tailored velvet black robes with the Malfoy seal on his lapel. He was the very picture of aristocracy.

_Lucius_, his headmaster nodded.

* * *

Grasping the extended hand firmly his father greeted Dumbledore like an old friend.

_So good to see you again. _His father's voice was warm and inviting, so unlike the stern tone Draco had grown up with.

_You've met my wife I believe, _He indicated to the staircase, from which a woman descended. Draco gasped. Her porcelain white skin contrasting with her stormy blue eyes and red ruby lips. He had never seen his mother so beautiful. She practically lit up the room. Wearing an elegant white dress that trailed behind her in an enchanted pattern, she walked with an unparalleled grace, looking every bit as a goddess.

Dumbledore took her hand, his mannerisms polished to their standards, and kissed it lightly.

_How could I forget, _said the old man, _You astounded us all with your knowledge of ancient bohemian artefacts at the Ministry function. _

His mother smiled warmly. _Most of which I learned from studying your own publications_, she spoke gratefully.

_Beautiful and modest_, he said gaining himself a pat on the shoulder from the elder Malfoy.

_You have a lovely home Lucius, I am beginning to think I should have taken you up on your invitation a long time ago. _

_We are happy to have you_, said Lucius, and Draco could tell he meant it.

_Shall we?_ He gestured towards the dining hall.

A gaping Draco followed.

* * *

The dinning hall radiated in a way he was certain he had never known in all his years of eating there. Like Hogwarts, the table was lined with floating candles; only these were encrusted with gems and shone ethereally. The table was covered in expensive linen, adorned with gorgeous porcelain china and silver cutlery.

He wondered for a moment if he was in the right house. There were no ostentatious portraits of stuffy aristocrats and purebloods. Instead the room was alive with beautifully arranged flowers, the walls, eggshell with a hint of silver and the only paintings to be found were those depicting nature and landscape.

Ignoring the large dining table Lucius lead them to the garden, a scenery, which once more served to take Draco's breath away. He could almost feelhis mothers' magic soaring through the composition of greenery and flowers that arched stunningly towards the sun, entangling in an anthropomorphic embrace. An archway of flowerets lead towards a fountain, with heads of dragons that emitted water running paths towards the rest of the wide expanse of the garden.

In the centre was a cosy set up of a ceramic table surrounded by three chairs and a loveseat shaded by large overhanging leaves to keep them out of the sunlight. Tea was already set up, with a variety of preserves, tarts and crumpets. Taking their seats, the tea was served with a wave of Narcissas wand; Dumbledore eyed his plate gratefully as it was adorned with a hearty looking serving of Raspberry tart.

Draco edged closer still in awe of his family and home. Sitting at the loveseat he listened carefully. They bantered for a while and he was astounded to find his father debating Muggle politics, Quidditch and properties of botany.

His fathers face was lively with merriment, and his mothers eyes gazed at him softly as he stroked her hand. Their open display of affection warmed his heart. They looked like any couple in love. He felt a pang at his heart when he thought of them now.

* * *

Dumbledore sighed in contentment. _Lovely as this has been, I should get going_, he said regretfully.

Lucius smile faltered for just a second, enough for Draco to notice from having watched him for years. His voice adopted a more serious note.

_It has been lovely to have you here, but I have a confession to make,_ he said enigmatically.

Dumbledore nodded.

_My reasons for inviting you here, were in part motivated by the prospect of discussing more pertinent matters. _He glanced at Narcissa, who nodded, the grip of her hand tightening in his.

_Yes. The election. _Dumbledore stated simply_. I expected as much. _Leaning back he surveyed the garden pensively.

Dracos brows furrowed in confusion.

_There is an alarming upheaval_ _Albus, as I am sure you will have noticed. Malevolent figures lurking beneath veneers of abject innocence, until they have gained enough notoriety. At which point it will be too late to stop them. The ministry needs a moral figure to stand behind_, Lucius continued, _If there is anyone fit to lead the ministry, it is you._

Dumbledores blue eyes turned to them, lingering on their clasped hands for a moment.

_I fear I am not the best wizard suited for such prospects. _He lamented as though lingering on a bad dream.

Narcissa spoke next, her eyes soft with concern.

_With the fall of… He who must not be named, we feel this is the right time to erase any misdeeds of the past. You are a great wizard Albus; if anyone could bring about reformation it's you. _Her eyes were pleading and Draco wanted nothing more than to reach out to her.

Lucius impulsively tugged at his sleeve. Draco knew too well what hid beneath. Dumbledores eyes lingered there for a flicker.

_And this reformation, what would it entail?,_ he asked.

_The death eaters_, said Lucius.

Draco listened intently, his pulse beating an erratic tattoo in his breast.

_There is bound to be followers left after the war, awaiting the rise of the next dark lord. With the right…connections, you could get rid of them. Make sure nothing like it ever happens again. Create a stable Wizarding world for all Britons. _He paused before sighing, tension dripping off of him.

_Despite blood status._

Dumbledore looked intrigued.

_We would back you of course, publicly and financially_, his mothers soft voice determined to be rid of their old allegiance.

_Is that what you__ really wa__nt?, _Dumbledore asked.

Lucius' voice was earnest.

_More than anything. _

Dumbledore looked pleased.

Staring at his father in disbelief, Draco felt an incredible weight lifted.

But more so dysphoria coursing through him. Here were his parents, younger and happier than he had ever seen them and ready to turn their backs on the dark arts. Wondering how it could have gone so wrong.

Draco's vision began to blur. The scenery was dissolving.

_No_, he whispered and reached out to his parents.

Feeling a tug pull him back he staggered and fell back into Dumbledores office.

His eyes fell upon those same blue eyes. Tired and sickly but still sparkling.

_Draco_, he smiled.

_Care for some Raspberry tart?_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 **

Standing Draco eyed the old wizard with caution.

His mind was reeling from the memory. His father's smile and his mother's soft eyes. His breath caught in his throat.

Dumbledore watched as he collected himself, wand swirling absently, stirring sugar into his tea.

A cup soared in his direction, landing with a clink on the nearest flat surface. Next to it was a plate of tart. The sweet scent made him want to vomit.

Sitting with trembling legs he sipped his far-too-warm tea, burning his tongue, singing down his throat. Moments of silence past until he willed himself to speak.

_Thank you_, he said to which the old wizard nodded.

_You left that memory out for me… didn't you._ Draco asked as an afterthought, soothing his burning tongue against the roof of his mouth.

_Yes_, sighed Dumbledore. Weariness was apparent on the aged wizards face, long lines dug deep into his skin, the colour of which spoke of countless hours huddled in the dark.

_It was not my intention to spring it on you_, taking a bite of sweet tart; it stained his lips like blood. _But if you are to make a choice, I thought it best you be well informed. _

_Informed of what_, Draco bit all too eagerly.

Dumbledore's antics only served to reinforce Draco's pre-existing beliefs of the man. He was completely bonkers.

_I love the scent of berries in the springtime._ The man spoke gaining a reproachful look from Draco. _But I am much more partial to lemons._

_You don't say, _mused Draco, sensing the citric scent wafting his way as the phoenix flapped its wings abruptly. Thinking old age must be doing something to the man.

_You remind me of him, your father._

Draco cringed at the thought.

_But you are so much more like your mother. _

_Headmaster_, said Draco trying to keep his voice steady, his patience was waning.

_What did it mean? The memory._

Dumbledore gazed absently at the snoring portraits on the wall above Draco's head. With an air of remorse he spoke, refusing to meet his eyes.

_Your father came to me for help after the first wizarding war. _

_As you must have figured out by now, I declined. In the coming months his requests became increasingly desperate. _

His icy greys glared. Draco despised the word desperate being used in conjunction with his father. He acknowledged that it Lucius was a difficult man, but he still felt a surge of anger at having him being insulted, to his face no less.

_Looking back, I am not sure I acted, as I should have. But I did not trust myself to be in such a position of power. And the war was over. Or so we thought. _

With bated breath he met his icy stare.

_I was arrogant…presumptuous to think that the remainder of the death eaters could cause no more harm. All was well. _

_And then he returned. _

_Voldemort_, mouthed Draco silently.

_Your father was ready to turn his back to the dark lord. But then you came. And he swore to give his life to save yours. He knew, would he not return to the good graces of the Lord Voldemort, your life or the life of your mother could never be safe. _

Draco listened intently, wishing the man could speak more candidly.

_You were safer, so to say, in the burrow of the beast than in his line of vision. _

The words came hard for him, as though the old man had buried them deep within the chasms of his conscience. Draco saw his hand tremble before setting down the cup. It came to cradle his other, which was folded beneath his lilac robes.

_I have not done my best to look after you. I hope you can one day see… one day forgive me for my transgressions_. Guilt dripping off of his voice like hot wax.

_Hogwarts will always be a place of safety, Draco. _

_All you have to do is ask. _

Dumbledore leaned back, adopting his calm inviting demeanour despite his tense display of remorse.

Draco could not help but hate the man. When he spoke his voice was grittier than he had anticipated.

_Why didn't you help them? Why…_

Dumbledore had the nerve to look sheepish. What am I even doing, he wondered pushing back any semblance of hope from his mind. This is pointless.

He felt angry tears threatening to spill over. His voice was shaky and weak. Controlling his emotions as best he could, he breathed deeply.

_It's too late,_ he said bitterly.

_It's never too late. Your father knew that the night he asked for my help. For all my blindness I didn't see it, I wronged them, and in turn you. _

He wanted to run, willing his limbs to move but remained welded to his seat.

_But you cannot punish yourself for our mistakes, or blame yours on others. _

_You have a wonderful gift, Draco Malfoy. _

_Not many could go through what you have and come out a better person. _

_He could_, his mind whispered to him, memories of the boy wonder flooding his mind. His stupid goofy smile. And that mop of a haircut.

If someone so bastardly righteous could see good in him, maybe it wasn't too late.

Did he dare to hope?

He felt a pang at his heart that affirmed his sentiment.

Maybe he could dare to put his life in the hands of a green-eyed boy.

Whose searing kiss and soft eyes filled him with more emotion than anything he had experience in his pitiful 16 yearlong existence.

This time he did move.

Standing he looked down at his headmaster.

_Say_… he began. Summoning his bravado he stood tall and spoke with a confidence only contended by Malfoy senior.

_Say, I do ask for help._

Dumbledore eyed him expectedly.

_What can you do? _

* * *

Once outside he turned to see the staircase disappear from view, the proud gargoyle now shrouding the entrance.

It was with a heavy trod he made his way down the corridor. He was exhausted in every sense of the word. His body wanted nothing more than to clamber into bed and sleep till morning.

_Not yet_, he thought with a smirk.

Diving into the next available classroom he waited.

And he did not have to wait long.


	10. Chapter 10

**Warning: **Short chapter ahead, next one will be longer and yummier!

**Solatium Et Decem**

Harry had sat in the Gryffindor common room when Ginny had walked in.

_Hey_, she smiled.

_Hey_, he repeated feeling anxious but managing a smile-like grimace.

Sitting next to him she grinned broadly and made to take his hand. Panicking he yanked his hand away and pretended to arrange his tie while speaking.

_The uhm feast was good, great! The treacle tart was better than usual don't you think? _

_Harry_, she sighed. _Is everything ok?_

Looking back into her eyes, he saw the same determination that had attracted him to her in the first place. Only now that he looked at her, he felt nothing but a strong brotherly love, in lieu of the fluttery feelings he had thought were blooming only weeks ago. And well, she reminded him a lot of Ron. He wondered how he had not seen it before. He was just imagining her with Ron's hair and clothes when she began to look agitated.

_Eh sorry, did you say something? _

Looking away, she got a stern look in her face. His fingers went instinctively to his wand, knowing how strong her bat bogey hexes were.

_Make up your mind, will you_? She pleaded, tears verging on spilling over.

_You know how I feel about you, stop playing with my emotions_, she said a little too loudly.

_Ginny_, he sighed, _listen, I think you're great_. Godric, he was terrible at this. She perked up a bit, looking at him with an almost greedy expression that frankly scared him. Choosing his words carefully he still managed to somehow get it wrong.

_But I don't want you… that way. _He winced at his words but figured she would appreciate his honesty.

Ginny coughed. Or so he thought, until he realised she was sobbing. Her face was flushed and her shoulders shook from crying. God Ron is going to murder me, his mind screamed.

_Please! I'm sorry! It's just you're Ron's sister and I'm… _He struggled to find the words and instead put a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned and glared at him. _Is that it?,_ she cried. _Ron?!_

_What? No. I_ … But Ginny continued, her shouts echoing through the common room.

_Oh that's rich Harry! Blame him for you're cowardice. Who else? Huh?_ Her eyes were wild with anger. _Hermione?_

Harry just gapped at her, not knowing what to do or say to placate her.

_Oh I bet she's been real helpful Harry, I've been waiting for you to make a move forever, and you're all – you're all talking about me behind my back!_

_Ginny, no one's talking about – _

_Oh don't think I don't know!_ She cried standing up. _You two have always been too close, always hugging! Pretending to be my friend, that tart! Is it her? Has she told you I'm too young? _She was more furious than hurt now. Harry was confused. He had never thought of Hermione that way. She was his friend.

_If you want me, you will have to fight for me, Harry_, she finished dramatically and ran to the girl's dorm.

He wanted to call out but refrained. He was so utterly boggled by what she had said. Like they were some bickering married couple. He shuddered as he got a mental picture. He collapsed onto the couch, feeling guilty. He hadn't meant to hurt her but it just wasn't working out, why couldn't she see that?

He would just have to talk to her later and explain the whole… Malfoy situation. Trying to steady his breath he focused on Malfoy. Imagining what he would do if Draco accepted Dumbledore's help. And then his traitorous brain imagined other stuff. Stuff that made him blush and breathe unevenly.

Taking out the Marauders Map he waited.

Remembering Draco's vulnerable expression, he pondered and made himself a mental promise.

I he accepts, I will _more_ than make it up to him.

Harry felt a rush of something, coursing through him at the sight of the miniscule dot moving. He had waited impatiently for the past two hours and he was at the brink of pulling his hair out by the roots.

The pinprick labelled Draco Malfoy moved out of office with increasing pace.

_Wait for me arsehole_, he muttered as he scampered out of the dorm. Seamus gave him a look and shook his head in amusement.

Pushing past Ron by the portrait entrance he decided their conversation could wait until he had something worthwhile to tell him.

Ron on the other hand was eloquent as always.

_Wah? _Holding a hand to his chest like a startled damsel.

Harry didn't pause and just sent him a grin as he disappeared down the stairs. He was both dreading seeing Malfoy and excited at the prospect of long overdue snogging.

_Should I ask?_, Ron queried as he composed himself. _Not_ fanning himself if someone were to ask.

Seamus's wink and flirty smirk was enough for Ron to cease his questioning.

* * *

The moon lit Draco's hair like a halo.

He sat elegantly on the desktop, gazing out of the window. The top buttons on his white shirt were undone and his tie lay loose on his chest. Harry took a moment just to look at him.

A floorboard creaked, drawing the blonde's attention. His silvery stare roamed the room wearily as his mouth formed a smirk.

_Come to spy on me again?_


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you all for reading! **

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Harry held his breath as Draco spoke across the room.

_Come to spy on me again? _

His eyes glinted mischievously and Harry felt a chill as they rested on him for a beat.

He prayed to Merlin he hadn't put the cloak on the wrong way around again. Once was embarrassing enough.

Malfoy pursed his lips as he looked around the dark room. Feeling more secure, Harry tiptoed forward, careful to avoid desks and chairs.

_We will have to do something about your kink, Potter_.

The way Malfoy managed to purr while saying his name made him shiver under the warm cloak. Stepping over a number of books scattered on the floor, he reached the desk on which Malfoy sat like it was his throne. He could make any hard surface look like a comfortable chaise. The proximity made him breath harder. He did feel like somewhat of a pervert for staring at Malfoy but he couldn't help it. The boy was gorgeous.

He was pale as death, but it suited him. Somehow it made his skin look like fine woven silk, and white porcelain. His grey eyes shimmered in the light, taking on an almost silvery glow. When he spoke his voice echoed off the barren walls.

_I like it when you watch me. _

Malfoy's hand came up to his shirt and undid one button revealing more of his delectable chest. Harry, ever the blushing virgin, was surprised at the thoughts going through his mind. He wanted nothing more than to nestle between his legs, lick his neck and fuck him until the only sounds uttered from his pink lips were whimpers. He clenched his fists in restraint.

Malfoy always knew how to provoke him. Making him feel things he previously hadn't. Fierce anger, irritation, lust and above all; passion. _No one_ else had that power over him.

Malfoy's fingers drew patterns on his exposed skin as his silvery stare scoured the room.

_Come out to play_, Malfoy spoke seductively. _…Harry. _

Another button was undone and Harry with it. Sighing, he pushed in between Malfoy's legs ignoring the gasp of surprise at his unseen assault. The surprised expression, turned into a smirk as trembling fingers reached out to grasp the thin material. It landed softly on the floor, revealing one very exited Harry Potter.

_Salazar, aren't you a sight for sore eyes,_ sighed Malfoy. His eyes hungry, taking in every bit of Potter who quivered under his intense stare. Harry growled, burying himself in Malfoy's arms, nuzzling his pale neck. Godric he smelled good.

Legs tightened around his waist, thrusting them closer together. Malfoy's hands were running over every part of him he could reach. Tentatively he touched his tongue to Malfoy's neck, the boy moaned at the contact. Each lap of his tongue and gentle scrape of his teeth drew out the most delicious sounds from the blond. He could spend days mapping out his pleasure points. But that would have to wait, his eager mind insisted. Sucking on Draco's pulse point earned him a needy groan. He felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him.

Drawing back, he looked into the glazed eyes of his former nemesis. He was breathing hard. He felt a pang at his heart suddenly, recognizing the feeling. He cared about him. Cared about the petrified boy in the bathroom, the one who sneered and insulted him at every chance. The same boy that kissed him like his life depended on it.

_We have to talk_, he whispered. Harry's hands betrayed his intent, still caressing the length of his legs.

_Later_, said Draco firmly. His eyes burned a fiery silver.

_Malfoy…I…please, it's important. _His voice full of concern, more so than he knew he felt for the blonde.

Draco was having none of it.

Pushing his hands into the soft wild mane, he pulled Potter closer and kissed him.

Harry inhaled sharply but could not resist it when Draco ran his tongue over his lips. He taught him the true meaning of French kissing. Harry moaned as their tongues caressed, lapping and tasting of each other in frenzy. Draco ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth and it sent ripple of pleasure through him. His hands moved up the blonde's thighs to grip his hips. Grey eyes opened; drawing back he sucked on Harry's bottom lip making him shiver.

_Eager, are we?_ Asked the blonde through thick lashes. His lips were red and plump and his cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

_Draco_, he began but his tone of voice must have alerted the blonde to his intentions because he cupped his face and sighed.

_I'll tell. But you have to do something for me. _His eyes flashed something wicked.

_What?, _he asked hoping it wasn't going to be something like jumping into the great lake or snogging McGonagall. In his state of arousal Draco could probably make him do anything and he would comply like a lovesick puppy.

_But you must do exactly as I say_.

Harry gave an audible gulp as he swallowed. Nervous as he was, he couldn't help but trust the slimy git. From the moment their eyes had met in the lavatory he had begun to see a different side to him. And he was certainly growing on him, if his feelings of late were anything to go by. He gave a nod and Malfoy's smirk grew.

To Harry's chagrin, he disentangled himself from him. It was only momentary as Malfoy reached forward with the soft swift agility of a seeker and cupped him _there_.

_Godric_, he moaned. Ginny had never been so bold, and the action coupled with the way he felt about said owner of that hand made him unbelievably flustered.

Malfoy leaned forward, whispering into his ear.

_Take off your shirt. _

Harry complied, his intentions all forgotten in lieu of the hand that held him. Unbuttoning his shirt, he shrugged it off and looked up to see Malfoy's lust ridden gaze. He moved his hand now caressing the length of Harry through his trousers. Groaning, he could barely contain himself from rutting into his hand. Draco licked his lips, on hand moving down to grasp his own hard member, growing steadily beneath the fabric of his trousers. Merlin, the sight would be imprinted on Harry's mind for eternity.

_Lock the door_; said Draco while his thumb brushed the tip of Harry's throbbing cock through the cloth. Nodding dimly, he turned and headed to the door, tripping slightly on the books that he had previously averted with such graze.

_With your wand, Boy wonder_, chuckled Draco.

_Oh_… he heard himself say. _Right_.

Feeling like an idiot he averted Draco's amused gaze. He might've laughed had he not been so painfully hard. With the flick of his wrist, the door locked with a soft click. Casting a silencing charm for good measure, he turned back to face Malfoy.

* * *

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